


Festival Night

by Rebel_Atar



Series: Spiritassassin Week 2017 [7]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, This Was Supposed To Be A One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebel_Atar/pseuds/Rebel_Atar
Summary: The rules for Guardians and Acolytes are relaxed a little for festival nights. Chirrut intends to take every advantage of this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spiritassassin Week Day 7: Festival
> 
> Super late with this.  
> I'm finding it hard to write one chapter things for these two. Chirrut is a menace.

The city of Jedha was alive with light and colour. The streets were hung with lanterns and swathes of bright fabric flowed between buildings. Makeshift awnings formed out of the colourful folds.

 

At the temple a gong sounded, accompanied by tinkling chimes. The festival had started. 

 

Baze Malbus sat on one of the walls. Watching the sunset and waiting for Chirrut. For a blind man his lover was awfully preoccupied with what he was wearing tonight.

 

Baze himself was wearing clean robes. Slightly embellished with subtle embroidery. It was a little more than their ascetic teachings really allowed but for special celebrations he managed to get away with it.

 

"I'm ready. Sorry to keep you waiting." Chirruts voice came from behind and  Baze turned to greet him. His mouth ran dry.

 

Chirrut had forgone his usual black robes for a rich, deep red. They were belted with black and Baze could see similar embroidered details as he bore on his own. 

 

It made Chirrut’s skin look like it was glowing in the fading light and had been styled so it fell open at his chest. It was loose enough around his shoulders that is it was in danger of sliding off the left of one.

 

He looked decadent in a way that a monk really shouldn't and the crooked grin that tugged at Chirrut’s lips only made him look more tempting.

 

Baze stepped forward and ran the backs of his fingers down Chirrut's throats to his exposed chest. His friend shivered.

 

"Where," Murmured Baze, "Did you get this?"

 

He tugged on the robe a little. This close he could see that someone had brushed gold pigment from the apples of his cheeks up to his temples. His cheekbones shimmered in the light as though they were gilded. Baze felt heat surge through him and tugged Chirrut closer but  Chirrut just laughed and pushed his hands to Baze’s chest to move them apart again.

 

"Never you mind where I got it." 

 

Baze tried to pull him closer and he danced out the way.

 

"Baze stop," He chuckled. "We’ll miss the festival."

 

"It's only just started." Said Baze, "We've plenty of time."

 

Chirrut dodged the large hands of his lover and hurried off towards the gates, still laughing. 

 

"Aren't you coming?" He shouted back over his shoulder.

  
Baze huffed but followed him with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am much happier with this chapter than the last.

Chirrut had quickly latched onto the sleeve of Baze’s robes and was pulling him along through the colourful streets. He asked Baze to describe the city to him, something he often did, and Baze stumbled his way through describing the celebration, feeling as though he did not do it justice.

 

They walked through the streets together, Chirrut dragging Baze closer to anything that sounded or smelled interesting. He lifted his hand to touch the swathes of fabric they passed, smiling at the soft texture. There were food vendors dotted frequently about. Jedha had a lot of different food cultures and all of them had at least one form or another of street food.

 

Chirrut seemed adamant on trying as many of them as they could in one night and stall after stall bought them something that without fail ended up being delicious. Questions as to how Chirrut had managed to get a hold of credits were answered with “Never you mind, My Baze.”

 

Baze was beginning to get a little tired of the new phrase. He was not, however, getting tired of being referred to as Chirrut’s.

 

Many of the stalls sold wine and Chirrut insisted they both try as many kinds as possible and bought cupfuls of them to quickly for Baze to refuse. Before long they were both flushed and Baze’s hesitance had fled. He was happy to be out with Chirrut. Not worrying about temple duties or passing their next duans. They could just be. Not Acolytes Imwe and Malbus but just Chirrut and Baze. A couple, like all the others on this festival night, despite their robes. It was surprisingly freeing. 

 

They passed another food vendor and Chirrut got them bao filled with sweet red bean paste, still hot from the steamer, and a warmed, spiced, honey wine. For the first time Baze didn’t object even though they were both beginning to head past tipsy. 

 

Chirrut cuddled into his side, happy to find no resistance. Happy that his lover was learning to live in the moment, even if it was just for tonight.

 

Darkness had long since fallen now, not that it mattered to Chirrut, and he ate the sweet bun with utter contentment. He had good food, the man he loved at his side, and a pleasant swaying feeling in his head. He could hardly ask for more.

 

He finished the buns quickly but not without savoring them and drank some of the sticky sweet wine, pulling on Baze to follow him again.

 

The light from the swinging lanterns made Chirrut’s skin glow gold and Baze felt the heat from earlier returning. He freed his arm from Chirrut’s grasp and slung it around his waist, pulling the other man close against his side as the walked through the streets. Baze bent to kiss Chirrut’s temple before moving to nibble at his ear. Hot breath and light pressure making Chirrut gasp and shiver. 

 

“Baze.” He whined.

 

“Hmm? What is it?”

 

“Stop teasing!”

 

Baze laughed, loud enough that a few people turned to look before shrugging it off and going back to the festivities. 

 

“You.” Said Baze, “Have been teasing me all night.”

 

“I have not.”

 

“Oh you have. Those robes, and how they’re just barely held together, whatever that shimmer on your skin is. Pressing close then running off again? Shameful teasing.” He purred the words softly into Chirrut’s ear and felt him tremble in his arms again.

 

“Baze!”

 

Baze laughed again and finished his wine, discarding the cup on a ledge nearby. Chirrut did the same with his, trying to dance out of Baze’s reach again to lead him to another stall. Baze had a better idea.

 

He caught Chirrut with both arms and pulled him back against his body. 

 

“Not this time. This time I’m leading you somewhere.” He murmured, breath hot on the back of Chirrut’s neck before guiding him along. Baze lead them to one of the little awnings created by the fabric strung between buildings. He pulled on the edge of it, dragging excess fabric down across the opening between the houses. Leaving the two of them partially hidden from the street.

 

It wasn’t completely secluded, but with a wall at one end and the fabric draped across most of the other it was at least more private than they were going to get on the street.

 

Baze pushed Chirrut against a wall and gave him a moment to get a bearing on where they were before Baze was on him, crushing their mouths together desperately.


	3. Chapter 3

Chirrut gasped into Baze’s mouth, kissing back as desperately as Baze kissed him, breathy little moans escaping every so often.

 

“Baze.” He sighed when Baze pulled back for a moment.

 

Baze tugged Chirrut’s head to one side to lay biting kisses up his neck, feeling his lover shiver against him. He slid his hand beneath Chirrut’s robe and slipped it from the shoulder it had spent all night tenuously clinging to. He sucked livid red marks at the newly bared skin, grinning when he felt Chirrut begin to arch against him.

 

“This robe,” Baze murmured as he trailed the marks back up to Chirrut’s neck, “Is obscene.”

 

Chirrut giggled. “That doesn’t sound much like a complaint.”

 

Baze growled and pulled their hips flush together, grinding against Chirrut. If Chirrut’s head hadn’t already been spinning with the wine it would have been sent spinning by the unexpected spike of pleasure. He thrust his hips against the welcome pressure, already half hard from the bites and the drinking. Baze slid his rove a little more open, it had fallen to crook of Chirrut’s elbow on one arm and was now gaping open all the way down. The belt was still drawn across his waist but was useless to keep the garment closed.

 

Chirrut let his head loll back against the wall, his cheeks flushed. His hips moved in little half circles that he seemed unable to stop. Baze pulled his hand from Chirrut’s chest to tug on the ties holding up his trousers.

 

“Baze? People, Ah!” Chirrut gasped as his lover ran a hand over the very obvious bulge in his trousers. “People will see.” He whined.

 

“Don’t fret so.” Baze purred into Chirrut’s ear. One hand still working the ties, the other keeping Chirrut pinned to the wall by his slender waist. “There’s an awning keeping us out of sight and besides,” He grinned. “Everyone’s far too busy enjoying themselves at the festival. Why shouldn’t we.”

 

Chirrut bit his lip to stifle a moan as Baze finally got the ties undone and a hand around him.

 

“Baze,” He sighed. “So good.”

 

“Patience.” He squeezed and Chirrut shuddered with a broken sigh. “I don’t suppose you were prepared for the outcome of all your teasing.”

 

Chirrut swallowed, realising exactly how far Baze was intending to take this. He nodded eagerly and slid a hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a small vial.

 

“I thought.” He licked his lips, mouth dry and head fuzzy, his whole body felt warm despite the cool evening air. “I thought once we got back-”

 

“You thought I would wait that long? After seeing you like this? After all that wine?” Baze’s chuckle was rich, thick like the sweet honey wine they’d just finished but so, so much darker. “I know what you get like when you drink Chirrut.”

 

He slid Chirrut’s trousers down his thighs until they dropped to the ground. “I know what you _need._ ”

 

Baze took the vial from Chirrut’s hand and used his foot to knock his legs apart into a wider stance. Then he stood back for a moment, taking in the view of his lover flushed from his cheeks to his chest with his trousers round his ankles and his robe hanging off one shoulder. He pressed the heel of his palm against the base of his cock where it was now pressing urgently against the fabric of his own trousers.

 

“The things you do to me.” Said Baze.

 

He used the vial to slick his fingers. The heady scent of sandalwood drifted up from the lubricant. Chirrut really had been feeling decadent today. He crowded Chirrut back against the wall, his fingers tracing a slick trail up one thigh before sinking back to circle his hole. Chirrut arched off the wall and into his hands with a groan.

“Baze. _Please._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger? Me? Never.


	4. Chapter 4

Baze laughed, deep and wicked. 

 

“And I thought I was impatient.”

He pressed his finger lightly against Chirrut, watching his lover’s face at it slid slowly inside him. His head tilted back against the wall, his eyes half shut. Chirrut’s hips were already beginning to roll slowly against the intrusion.

 

Baze might encourage him to drink more often if this desperation was the result.

 

He worked a second finger into Chirrut quickly, feeling his own need mounting. Chirrut made a breathy little whimper and thrust his hips against Baze’s hand in earnest. 

 

“The things you do to me Chirrut.” He whispered against Chirrut’s skin, working a third and final finger into him. Chirrut squirmed against the wall.

 

“Just do it Baze, I don’t need another.”

 

“Oh?” Baze said thrusting all three of his fingers into Chirrut regardless. “You’ll be sore tomorrow if I don’t stretch you out. Remember what happened the last time.”

 

“It’s fine Baze,  _ please. _ ” Chirrut whined.

 

Baze reached the limit of his patience at the sound. He pulled his fingers out, ignoring Chirrut’s whimper of loss. He tugged the trousers off Chirrut’s left leg along with his shoe and then hitched Chirrut’s thigh over his right hip. Baze slicked himself quickly with the fragrant oil before lining himself up and sliding slowly into his lover.

 

Chirrut shoved a hand against his mouth to stifle the groan he let out as Baze slid home. It burned. Baze was right, he would feel it tomorrow but he didn’t care. Chirrut had planned to wait til they were back in their room at the temple but Baze needed him and Chirrut was so warm and and Baze had worked him up so good he couldn’t have waited either.

 

He slid his other arm around Baze’s left shoulder as the larger man grabbed him under each thigh and hoisted him up fully against the wall. Chirrut wrapped his legs around Baze’s waist, crossing his ankles at his lower back, and held on for dear life as he was pounded against the side of the building.

 

“Chirrut.” Baze panted, “So tight.”

 

Chirrut let out a whimper and bit down on his fingers. He couldn’t risk someone from the festival hearing them. It was difficult to stay quiet though. It felt so good. Baze was nailing his prostate with every thrust and Chirrut felt like he might go mad with it. He must look so debauched. His robe hanging off one shoulder and his trousers hanging off the opposite ankle, spread wide open for Baze, pinned against a wall. 

 

Baze shifted his grip to free one of his hands, using his size to press Chirrut fully against the wall so he could work a hand between them and wrap thick fingers around Chirrut’s cock.

 

Chirrut gasped brokenly and bit down on his fingers, spilling over Baze’s hand. His muscles spasmed rhythmically around his lover’s cock and Baze followed him over the edge with a low groan of Chirrut’s name.

 

They stayed there for a moment, catching their breath as Baze softened and slipped out of Chirrut. Baze put Chirrut down, gently, and stepped back to right his clothes as he watched his own come drip sluggishly down Chirrut’s thighs.

 

Chirrut swayed a little where he stood and Baze decided to take pity on him. He helped Chirrut redress, careful to make sure the robes were long enough to cover any damp patches that might form on the trousers. Then he wrapped an arm around Chirrut’s waist and cuddle him close into his side before guiding them back out to the festival.

  
Chirrut still looked thoroughly ravished but it would do until they managed to get back to their room.


	5. Chapter 5

Baze kept Chirrut firmly tucked into his side on the walk back to the temple. 

 

Together they wound their way through the rest of the festival. Chirrut gathered a few looks from what were fast becoming livid marks on his neck but it wasn’t as if he noticed. Baze grinned at everyone who looked, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say he bared his teeth possessively at them. 

 

Between the alcohol and the alley Chirrut was unsteady on his feet. Baze felt a small measure of smugness about it.

 

It was not a long walk but they took it slowly, and navigating the steps of the temple slower still. 

 

When they were finally back in their shared room Baze poured Chirrut into bed and stripped him of the decadent robes before curling up around him.

 

When morning came Chirrut stirred slowly. His head was pounding and there was a deep ache in his ass. This did not stop him from stretching and cuddling into his lover with a distinct air of satisfaction.

 

Baze laughed.


End file.
